


Work In Progress

by Binxus



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 09:32:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14615367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Binxus/pseuds/Binxus
Summary: Andrew visits his hometown. That is all.





	Work In Progress

**Author's Note:**

> nu·cle·ic ac·id  
> n(y)o͞oˌklēik ˈasəd  
> noun BIOCHEMISTRY  
> a complex organic substance present in living cells, especially DNA or RNA, whose molecules consist of many nucleotides linked in a long chain.

      Heat is an experience, to say the least. Heat, cold, humidity, darkness… these things are certainly experiences as well. In life, there are many experiences to have, and many elements to those experiences. In life there are so many different elements and concepts to consider, that even considering those concepts is a big decision. Everything that can be done by the living, _will_ be done by the living, and that’s a fact. To simplify, there are many ways to live. In correlation, there are many ways to die.  
      May in Springfield had experience in spades; Too much experience in my opinion. It was the summer of 2029 and I was experiencing all of it: The heat of the air, trapping me, the cold of my back against the old dam, the humidity ever growing on my chin, and the darkness of the night steadily creeping in. This is my first time visiting home since the cold war started, and it’s all so surreal. I mean, the majority of my childhood was spent in a suburb of Auburn, but the route through Springfield saves more gas. Westbrook is full of memories just the same.  
I was so excited when I got here that I didn’t even take the time to look around the rest of the compound. I just pulled into the Seven Pines entrance and went straight to the creek. _My_ creek.  
      I think the thing that surprised me the most was the dam was still intact. For the most part anyway. I remember thinking when I was a child that approaching the creek was like walking into a ballroom. You see, the creek was laced with mulberry trees and sandwiched in the valley of two small hills. One leading into the street, one leading to the apartment complexes. It was a very steep decline on the apartment side, so the dam being nestled into the hill provided a sort of staircase; The dam being the railing, it led into a little platform with a centuries-dead Ash tree as a centrepiece.  
      Across that was the creek, and a little to the left across that creek was another grove. It had a tree that grew horizontally. Long story short, it was struck by lightning a long time ago. I fondly remember the sunsets from that spot. But I wasn’t in that spot. I was in the ballroom sitting against the dam, reminiscing and more than likely romanticizing childhood friends and stories.  
      I sat there looking at the mustardy water and found myself contemplating if getting up was worth seeing the old tree again. I mean, it’s so hot. And hell, I’m going to be here all week, I can do it tomorrow.  
      Wait, no. This is important. I can _feel_ it... Yeah... Drew, get up off your lazy ass for once in your life and enjoy the nostalgia while you can.  
      With a grunt, I hoisted myself up. God, when did I get so unhealthy?  
      As I began to cross, I surveyed the creek. Well, my creek wasn’t exactly that much of a “creek” nowadays. It was seldom full even during the rainy season, or at least, that’s what I assumed from the height of the water. I got here on a good day. It’s been wet all week, and the oaks and mulberries are green with vitality. The water wasn’t as high as I would have liked, but hey. It’s there.  
      The rocks that I once struggled to hop across are covered in dirt, moss, and other detritus, but like the creek, they’re there. And that’s okay.  
      I can only hope that I haven’t pushed the path to the other side out of my brain somehow. Those rocks are tricky, and I’ve got the scars to prove it. Though, I do have slightly longer legs now, which is good. Again, I contemplate if falling on my ass is worth it… It is. This is _i_ _mportant_. Now, how did I do this?  
I stood near the Ash trying to figure a way across as a soft breeze settled down into the trees. The rustled leaves drifted away, a solemn reminder that even in the youth of May, fall will eventually come. And with it, morbidity.  
      The breeze gently pushed me forward, almost encouraging me. Now is the time.  
      I looked down into the muddy water and jumped to the first pale rock. Well, not really. I moreof took a large step onto it. Hopping across them now is like a long-forgotten tango. The stage _is_  smaller; Still, the experience remains.

**Author's Note:**

> Uric acid is a heterocyclic compound of carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and hydrogen with the formula C5H4N4O3. It forms ions and salts known as urates and acid urates, such as ammonium acid urate. Uric acid is a product of the metabolic breakdown of purine nucleotides, and it is a normal component of urine. [({Also tell me if you want me to post more. I don't think I will otherwise.})]


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